Fire Emblem Black Flame
by Tobizard
Summary: James is just reading in the garden trying to blot out the annoyin voice coming from above, but even bigger problems are about to arise on his birthday when he realizes he's being watched.


**Fire Emblem: Black Flame**

Chapter 1: The End

He was getting to the best part. His eyes skimmed across the page at a faster pace than usual. A pace fueled by curiosity and entrigumeant, but it wasn't enough to shut out the annoying shrieks coming from directly above. "Hey! James! Are you listening to me!? Put down the damn book already! You're starting to get on my nerves!"

On _your_ nerves? James pondered. He closed the book, and without tearing his gaze away from it finally responded with, "What?"

"Get your ass up here, _that's_ what!" James looked up just in time to catch the hilarious sight of Arthur's upper torso struggling to stay inside the window, and it only took a moment of clumsiness to see to it his entire body fall two stories from where he once stood. James' eyes widened as he watched his friend fall head first onto the large bundle of growth he was laying up against a moment ago. With some effort that seemed as comical as his trip, Arthur poked his head out of his cushion and exclaimed, "I'm ok!" stupidly. In response, James just sighed relived, but wondered how Arthur hasn't killed himself yet.

After some more arguing, James reluctantly agreed to follow Arthur inside, and they left the small garden then entered through the backdoor. They both lived in a lavish, yet small (compared to others) castle; however, the short horizontal hallway they were now in hid this fact. A door stood directly in front of them, and the walls around it were made of stone. On each side, staircases lead to two sides of one floor. Up the one on the left they went, pass Arthur's window, and they now stood on the west balcony that overlooked the main hall. The room's symmetry was spot on with a balcony on to their right that also had an inner corridor that was filled with doors to all sorts of rooms like the left. Unlike the previous room, the main hall showed almost no stone at all, as if it were wearing the endless amount of drapes and carpets like clothing. "Arthur," James whined, "what are we doing up here?". Arthur turned around to face James with his huge smile on his face like a clue to this annoying mystery. "You'll see! Just stop complaining, you have to trust me sometimes. Do you even know how to not be skeptical?" James didn't glorify that comment with a response.

Arthur ran ahead him into the inner hall; meanwhile, James dragged his feet towards him. Standing in front of James' bedroom door, he looked at Arthur who urged him to open the door. The first thing he noticed when they entered was the wrapped gift on his plush bed and it all came to James. Today was his birthday. "Go on, open it!" Arthur beckoned. Without too much hesitation, he walked over to his bed, situated himself upon it, and began to open his gift. James has always loved gift-wrapping for some reason. He always made it a point to unwrap it slowly as to not rip it, and this time was no different. The wrapping was a shiny glossy green, a color that seemed to just love being looked at. Arthur surprisingly didn't complain as James took his time with the gift, but out of the corner of his eye he could tell Arthur was getting impatient by the excessive tapping of his foot. Long before James was finished it was reveled that his present was a tome with a lightning bolt on the front. "A tome?" James said. "Yeah! I figured you'd want one of your own, you know so you wouldn't have to keep borrowing Orwen's." James snickered, and said, "Thanks for the book, Arthur, you seem to always know what to get me. Even if it's not my birthday."

"No problem." Arthur replied looking pretty proud of himself. James showed one of his rare looks of gratitude and this brought into view Arthur's regal appearance. Arthur never did dress like he was a king, but that didn't stop him from dawning flashy jewelry and the crown he so adored. When you added this along with his wavy, golden hair and handsome face you got a man who caught the attention of any girl he passed.

Suddenly, a horrible realization washed over James. "Orwen!" he yelped, shooting up from the comfy spot on his bed.

"What about him?" asked Arthur, looking puzzled.

"Training! Dammit! I completely forgot!"

James continuously swore under his breath even after he left the room in some attempt to release any anger the situation had so abruptly forced upon him; meanwhile, Arthur couldn't contain his laughter. " I swear," he said starting to calm down, "no matter how smart that idiot gets, he wouldn't even remember his own birthday. Arthur started to bust out laughing again, understanding James' confused look when he first saw his present.

Woodham is a quiet town that seemed too out of the way of anything for its own good, but the people here loved it. It didn't matter that there was a good chance the trade caravans probably wouldn't bother to visit them this month, or that snow was more common than dirt on someone's shoe. All they cared about is quiet. All James' cared about was getting to his meeting with Orwen in time.

It didn't matter how fast he ran, he was already late. James started to slow down with this thought processed, and he took this opportunity to enjoy the smaller amount of snow on the ground today. He never knew why he enjoyed seeing the ground bare, if it wasn't covered in snow it was covered in dead, brown grass. He always found himself wondering this, wondering why something so ugly was such a treat to see. James always kept these kinds of thoughts to himself; nonetheless, he brought the subject up with Orwen once, and he surprisingly had an answer. Orwen told James that because he never sees it, it is a sight he cannot bring himself to look away from. This was human nature. What we can't have, we want. Even though it was the only explanation he had, James never put stoke in it, never believing that there are things that all beings have in common.

The stroll through the town for James has always been filled with greetings galore. Everyone, including the secluded baker, seemed to have a fondness for him. They treated him like a prince even if he wasn't one. James always made a point to say hello back, since he felt so guilty not recognizing most of them. Some like Ms. Young, the blacksmith he's had memories of since he first arrived at Woodham. She crafted the fine steel sword that lay beneath his bed, and even bothered to stop by the castle to make sure it was in fine shape. Mary, who always had her favorite teddy bear with her, is one of the youngest in the town who seemed to look up to James. Every time she knew she was about to get scolded she'd run around Woodham until she finally stumbled upon James for comfort, and to keep her mother from punishing her too much. Even the tradesman, who everyone called plainly referred to as Will, seemed to have a better day after spending time with James. There was just something about James that people just liked.

When James saw the red targets he practices with in the distance, he picked up the pace until he was finally there. Orwen instantly forgave James' incompetence to actually be on time for something, since it was his birthday. In fact, he handed him his present immediately after arriving. "You remembered, too?" James asked.

"No, I just have a dragon stone I don't want." Orwen said.

Even though Orwen is the most intelligent person James knew, he also knew that he has a knack for wisecracking. "Oh really? Then I guess you won't mind if I take it." James replied, joining in on the joke. "That's what its for," Orwen sighed, chuckling.

"I guess it's not so much fun to open it now that you've told me what it is."

"Heh heh, yeah, sorry."  
>James opened the unwrapped box (James understanding that Orwen knows him better than he thought) and brought out the dragon stone. "What exactly is a dragon stone by the way?" Orwen gave James a kind of look of disbelief, but spoke. "A dragon stone," he began, " is a stone that a manakete uses to switch between dragon and human form. I thought it'd be nice if you had something a little-"<p>

"Weird?" James interrupted.

"Call it what you want, dragon stones are pretty rare."

"How'd you get your hands on it?" James asked starting to get interested.

"Not me, Will." Orwen said, looking back the way James came, which happen to be the direction of the goods shop.

"What? How's that possible? You know as well as I do that items like that are needle in a haystack here."

"Trust me," a smile starting to form on Orwen's face as he spoke," he didn't get it from some visitor; he got it on his own travels. Before he settled down, he told me he met an old man. An odd guy, he said, that was willing to trade him this for some card he found on the ground."

"Really?" James asked.

"Yeah, he said I could have the stone if I was willing to help him around the store."

With that said, James felt a little bad knowing that his friend had to work for the present he got him, but he didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He was just thankful for the gift.

After displaying his new tome from Arthur to Orwen, they began practice as usual. Practice has always focused on magic, because for a while now, James has been receiving help from Orwen on perfecting the art. This was due to James' strength having always been with a sword, but that didn't stop him from striving to become a better fighter. He thought that if he could be good at this he could balance his overall fighting style, and even though he rarely found himself in a fight, fighting seemed to be a passion of his. To be more specific planning them seem to hold a bigger interest in his mind. Almost all of the books he reads are stories depicting great battles that turned at a moments notice. He loved the way the battles unfolded and who came out on top.

Training revealed that James had only made a small amount of progress since they began and it wasn't looking good. His bolts would always either veer off course, or hit the targets with such littler impact, James was sure his new tome was genuinely insulted by his master's lack of skill. On the bright side, Orwen seemed just as devoted as James to the project and never seemed frustrated with his pupil, and that took a lot of pressure off him. James always found it weird how the scholar in Orwen came out when they worked together, the way he talked and helped James was nothing short of real talent, but it didn't seem like enough to turn things around.

The training ground they worked on was nothing special. It was covered in dirt and had human dummies sticking out of the ground. On the other side of the small area, was where the targets James constantly shot at for hours. Sadly, they seemed so undisturbed; they themselves were coated in a thicker layer of dust than the ground.

For hours, they were met with failure and once the sun started to set, they agreed to stop. They both had foreheads covered in sweat when they called it a day thanks to having the sun beat down on them for such a continuous amount of time, but the now cooler atmosphere fixed that. After working so hard, James was always amazed at how tidy they both still looked after it. That is, if you don't count Orwen's messy hair. His hair has always been a light blonde like his skin that was very pale to fit a scholar. Orwen's gray eyes, hidden behind glasses, also never felt like a suitable match for his hair. His crooked nose made him look a bit weirder than most people, but nothing that stood out too much.

James on the other hand had a thin appearance that was fitted in a garb much more refined than Orwen, who simple wore a dark cloak over his other clothes. James usually wore a dress shirt covered by a purple vest. When it comes to hair, he enjoyed his bangs that got shorter as they crossed his forehead, which made a diagonal line of straight dark hair that covered one eye and left the other free, which were also both gray. You might think that he had trouble seeing, but it was so natural to him to see out of only one eye he was used to it.

As he was patting his head dry, James noticed a figure off in the distance, watching him, and him alone. A bright yellow ribbon wrapped around what James believes was its head, was the only feature that stood out about this sudden visitor. The figure paid no attention to Orwen, his presence only an obstacle he had to avoid now, but soon...

James swerved to face Orwen's direction, and began to speak, " Hey, Orw-" but as he did, he turned again to shoot the mysterious figure another glance, and noticed it was gone. Vanished, like it was never really there. A daydream that had briefly stepped into reality.

"Yeah?" Orwen asked.

"N-nothing," James replied pondering whether or not he should bring it up, "You want to go to castle, there's supposed to be some party or something."

"Right, your birthday."

James never asked for a party, but Arthur insisted stating that they must celebrate in some manner. James figured there was no use arguing and went along with it helping with planning and such. The party was supposed to begin at nine o clock and both James and Orwen figured it was around the time. The lights coming from the castle were also hard to miss, shining into the sky for an endless length that could rival the territory it entered. When they arrived everyone in town jeered and yelled happy birthday. James thanked everyone and tried not to giggle at Orwen's lack of attention.

"JAMES!"

The scream echoed across the now hall, a silence appearing out of nowhere. "James!" There it was again, but now James could see him. Arthur working his way through the crowd, politely moving people out of the way. When he finally stood by him he spoke some more, saying, "You made it!"

"Of course, I live here," James exclaimed with eyebrows raised. He didn't do it often, but James credited himself for being a smartass sometimes, too.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and the festivities began. There really wasn't much too it besides mingling and eating, but every now and then they would all hear a loud crackling noise outside where there were fireworks being set off. Arthur had actually hired someone to manage the fireworks and he was later found proclaiming that every cent was worth it. Being the bookworm that James is it might surprise you to know that he tried to talk to everyone who had come to personally thank him or her himself. Talking was never something he shied away from it; in fact, at times he enjoyed it immensely, like tonight. A little way into the party, James caught a glimpse of Arthur himself engaging in conversation. James couldn't see who it was, but he was sure he was having a good time, so he left him alone. When James wasn't talking to someone he was catching a bite to eat, and that itself was an experience. The entire buffet, cooked by Woodham's royal chefs, consisted of so many different dishes it was kind of hard to count them all. They had sweet food, sour food, crunchy food, and even a couple bitter courses that were said to be more refined food. Everything was fabulous, but it wasn't until games were brought out when things kicked off. James challenged Orwen to chess, and was struggling to keep his king out of check right off the bat; meanwhile, Mary was dominating Arthur at an exclusive game of tag between him and herself. Every time, Arthur hid somewhere it would be so obvious it was debatable that Arthur was throwing the game. At one point in his match with Orwen, James managed to gain some spectators and it didn't take long for about half of the guests to be breathing down James' neck. People shouted out moves, but James stuck to his own strategy, but a couple moves later and he was in checkmate. Orwen congratulated James on his effort and shook his hand; though, James didn't feel so satisfied.

"Everyone, everyone, quiet down. I have something to say." Arthur yelled over the crowd. Arthur was standing at the end of the main hall right in front of his barely used throne, holding a wine glass in the air. "Everyone", he began," I just want to thank you all for coming and say for the millionth time today, happy birthday, James!" The rest followed his lead, and when they silenced themselves Arthur continued. "You know, when I first met James when we were children, I was jealous of him. The way he held my father's favor was nothing short of frustrating. I grew to- well, not like him. Still don't a little." James grinned, while everyone laughed at Arthur's teasing. "It didn't help that he didn't seem to care about the world. All he ever does and did care about was books! Even if I didn't like him; though, he was still always there... like a brother, especially after my dad disappeared." Arthur now had a nostalgic look on his face that seemed so emotional. Arthur never did have a hard time showing his emotions. "After he was gone, I think I finally understood James. He-" Arthur looked at James and he nodded to let him know it was ok."-came here without a family. My dad saw something in him at an orphanage on a visit, to try and brighten the kids' day, and he didn't want James to spend his life there. Slowly rotting away. Anyways, after he was gone, my dad that is- James became... my friend, I guess. A part of my family, and even if he can be difficult at times; nonetheless, he's still here and I like him... at most." This time, James was the one laughing. "I'm kidding, of course, and what I'm trying to say, I guess, is..." Arthur took a deep breath, "James, I-"

Arthur was cut short by a deafening explosion. The first thing that crossed everyone's mind was a firework gone awry, but when everyone turned to the sound's direction what they all found was shocking. A giant gaping hole right where the oak entrance doors once stood. James and Orwen's eyes met, both as confused as the other. The guests, now jumbled among each other, were slowly starting to get back on their feet. Dust began pouring in, and that's when he appeared. The figure from earlier, looming over the ruined state of the once glorious room, not stepping out into full view. His arm rose slowly and when it lined up with his eyes, barbarians of all shapes and sizes charged in, warcrys ringing from their throats. Panic erupted, and everyone scattered. James vision was obscured with human bodies almost immediately, but he was able to view Orwen's terrified face. James tried to run towards him, but he was knocked down, and landed directly on his head. Everything blurred, but James held onto his consciousness with every ounce of strength he had, but it was futile effort. Even though he was able to stay awake, his crawling to Orwen was pointless. He could hear screams coming from every direction, definitely louder than the fireworks. He couldn't even count how many times he was trampled, and James knew that if he lived through this his whole body was going to practically be turned a dark purple. Thanks to all the commotion, he couldn't see above three centimeters from the ground, but that all changed the moment he was brought to his feet by one of the invaders. He grabbed him by the hair, and James hollered in pain. The man was about three times James' size and his brute strength was let known to James thanks to his rough handlings. He had the skin of an animal strapped over his head and he this standard of clothing went for pants, too. He wore no shirt of any kind and his feet were encased in boots made of thick leather. He took one good look at James, and a wicked smile spread across his scarred face. He roared, "I GOT ANOTHER!" and he dragged him out of the castle. A rope was bounded around James' arms, allowing the man to put little effort in keeping him at his back. James' own strength was a speck in matter of amount compared to his captor, and when he struggled he got a back kick to his jaw. The cool night air hit his face, and with sight still unavailable to him, James's mouth was filled with dirt as the bastard treated him like it. Just then, James heard him scream, and the rope fell loosely in front of James. He looked up to see Orwen standing over him, his tome open. He looked as scared as he did back at the castle, and it was understandable why. Before James acknowledged Orwen, he took a look around.

Destruction and chaos were let off their chains in Woodham, as dead bodies lay on the ground next to burning houses. People were running amok, trying their best to avoid any their destinies becoming the same as the ones that lay dead at their feet. The little snow that was on the ground was tainted dark red. More explosions filled the air followed by flashes of color, and James assumed that these barbarians were using the fireworks as weapons. "Get up!" Orwen cut the rope; using a dagger he kept in his back pocket, and helped James up. It was at this time that he realized that Orwen was just as roughed up as him. "Come on! We have to go!"

"What about the others! Where's Arthur!" James screamed.

"I don't know, but we-" Orwen fell to the ground, revealing another one of these savages behind him. He was holding an iron axe in both of his hands by the bandaged handle. James quickly realized that Orwen was only unconscious, not dead by the way he was attacked. James was about to retaliate with his tome (which he had kept with him this whole time), but just as soon as his hands reached inside his vest he felt the butt of an axe beat down on him in one successful blow and he collapsed.

The last thing James remembered was seeing Woodham from outside its gates, crumbling down in flame.


End file.
